


Something About You

by reindeersidecar



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Friends With Benefits, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7674076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reindeersidecar/pseuds/reindeersidecar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a night of celebration, Fareeha and Angela play a dangerous game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something About You

Angela was El Naddaha **,** singing Fareeha her Siren song.

It happened at gatherings such as this one, where the atmosphere was light, the alcohol tolerance lighter, and the mood would strike Angela just right, where she’d beckon Fareeha from across the mess hall. She never used any words. The call was often in the dark gleam in her eyes, the tipsy smirk framed by her red lipstick, the flirty toss of her hair.

Angela was El Naddaha, and Fareeha wouldn’t mind if she drowned her in the Nile.

Angela was on the other side of the mess hall, serving herself at the banquet table, when she met Fareeha’s eyes, one blonde, elegant brow cocked, her sultry smile heating up the whole room. At least, it felt that way. Angela held her gaze as she pulled her hair free and shook it out all slow and seductive like they did in the movies. Fareeha hated the heat it stirred in her.

She rose from her seat and crossed the cafeteria in a few long strides. She stood beside Angela, shoulders brushing, as she tonged some salad into her plate. “You are playing a wicked game, Dr. Ziegler,” she murmured. After all, fraternization was outlawed. Although that hadn’t stopped them before, not when they’d made out on the med bay examination table, and definitely not when they’d lingered behind on the dropship post mission debrief.

Their affair had a kind of ebb and flow, a tide as dangerous as it was intoxicating. Drunk on lust one moment, painfully sober on self-awareness the next. No roots for a real romance ever took for this reason. She supposed that was for the best.

But it often left them dancing around each other at these gatherings. The alcohol encouraged their boldness, invited the danger. They played a game, with high stakes if they were caught. Whoever caved first and lost their self-restraint, lost the game. Although they were both victors in the end. The loser only had the mildly embarrassing and difficult task of sneaking back to their quarters unnoticed the next morning.

Fareeha didn’t have to look at Angela to hear the smile in her voice, see the mischief in her eyes. “What game might that be, Captain Amari?” She tossed her hair over one shoulder, exposing the slender, pale curve of her neck. If being a ruthless tease were an art form, Angela Ziegler had certainly mastered it.

Fareeha raised her brow. “You’ll find there are consequences for losing.”

Angela finally turned to her, her eyes alight. “Oh, I do hope I will.” She brought her red wine to her lips, looking at her coyly across the rim of the glass. Fareeha watched her hips sway in her tight, black sweater dress as she strode away.

Angela played a mean game, and Fareeha wasn’t one for losing. Good thing she knew the doctor’s weaknesses.

Fareeha pinched her hair tie between her teeth as she gathered her hair into a short ponytail, letting the golden bobbles hang free to frame her face. When she looked up, Angela was watching her intently. She held Fareeha’s eyes a moment before glancing away, feigning disinterest. Fareeha laughed to herself. She had a few more things in her artillery.

She tossed her blazer onto the back of an open seat, revealing her white blouse, and her black suspenders, which she knew Angela had a particular affinity for using to tug her into supply closets. When she searched again for the doctor’s eyes, she was pretending to engage in a conversation with Aleks and Mei, but her stolen gazes in her direction did not escape Fareeha’s notice. A small smirk quirked at the corners of Angela’s mouth, and she retaliated in kind by stretching her arm over her head with a fake yawn, riding her gown up her long legs, just far enough up her thighs that Fareeha could see what was essentially a loaded handgun: her black, lacy garter belts.

Fareeha turned away at once, feeling as if she’d been shot in the chest. She hooked a finger into the warm collar of her shirt. This would be more difficult than she’d thought.

She popped open several of her blouse’s buttons, exposing a generous amount of her cleavage and the lacy trim of her bra. She was glad very few people on the team were taller than her in that instant, though she supposed if anyone did happen to see something, they’d chalk it up to the alcohol.

Angela was seated now at a small, round table with Jesse and Lena, Aleks and Mei having drifted on to a conversation with Reinhardt and Winston. Fareeha strode up to her and reached to pull out a chair directly across from the doctor. “Mind if I join you?”

Jesse smiled, tapping out the ashes of his cigar into a tray. “Sure thing, darling. Have yourself a seat,” he drawled.

Fareeha held Angela’s curious gaze as she bent to sit, pushing her chest forward. Angela’s eyes fell away from Fareeha’s face to ogle her breasts before she drew her bottom lip into her mouth and pretended to check her holowatch. Fareeha settled in her seat then, more than a little smug.

“Aw, put that thing away, Angie. We shouldn’t be _working_. We should be having _fun_ ,” Tracer chirped.

“Yes, Angela, we should be having fun,” Fareeha said with a pointed lift of her brows, placing particular emphasis on "we" and "fun."

Her suggestive remark did not go unchecked. Angela looked a bit warm, rubbing the back of her neck casually. “I could have fun by myself,” she offered, and her eyes came up sharp. Fareeha felt flushed anew by the insinuation of her words, the thoughts it forced into her mind’s eye.

Lena snorted. She was a bit tipsier than the rest of them. “We’re at a _party,_ silly. The point is to have fun with other people.”

“Come on, Doc, don’t be such a loner,” Jesse chimed in, blowing out a ring of smoke. He was in that drowsy haze of his. Everything would escape his notice now.

Angela muttered something along the lines of, “I’m trying not to be,” before getting up to refill her wine glass. When she returned she sat down in the seat next to Fareeha, instead of the one opposite her. Jesse and Lena had engaged in a debate of who could clear the training range fastest.

Suddenly a hand was in Fareeha’s lap. Fareeha glanced up wide-eyed at Angela who smiled roguishly in answer. Angela squeezed her thigh, then brushed her fingers along the inside of her leg. Fareeha tried to stifle any visible reaction as arousal spiked through her. “That’s cheating,” she hissed.

Angela cocked a brow. “Who said I like to play fair?”

Fareeha forced her gaze away. If Angela was resorting to dirty tactics, that meant she was getting impatient. She just had to hold out long enough to win.

By the end of the night, Angela hadn’t lost. But neither had Fareeha. It was a draw, which was as good as losing, if losing was as good as winning and winning was winning.

Fareeha sighed to herself as she dragged her legs back to her room, wishing she’d put aside her pride a moment and indulged herself. She hadn’t even been able to say goodnight to the doctor, who had disappeared when the party had dispersed. Fareeha wondered if she was as disappointed as she was.

Evidently, she found Angela leaning against the wall outside her door.

Angela tugged her in close by the straps of her suspenders. “You were talking about—” She looked down at Fareeha’s lips, brow quirked. “—Consequences?”

Fareeha grinned and pulled her into her quarters. “I’ll show you what I meant.”


End file.
